


In My Head

by thranduils1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, Prisoner of War, Sexual Abuse, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thranduils1/pseuds/thranduils1
Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Castiel. Set in the apocalypse verse, the reader is at the whim of her angel captor Castiel who has long figured out that some tortures are more effective.
Relationships: AU Castiel x Reader, AU Castiel x You, AU Castiel/You, Castiel x You, Castiel/You, CastielxYou
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 9/2/2020

Flipping the page in the worn book, you read on. The leather-bound book was barely holding on to its binding and you handled it like porcelain to prevent from losing one of the last solaces you have left in the world.

_“Don’t laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns, and many silent sacrifices of youth, health, ambition, love itself, make the faded faces beautiful in God’s sight. Even the sad, sour sisters should be kindly dealt with, because they have missed the sweetest part of life, if for no other reason.”_

This passage in particular was one that stirred emotion deep within you. You were sacrificing quite a lot being here.

Your relaxation was cut short as the sound of heavy footfalls on the hardwood outside the door caused you to freeze. There was no mistaking his presence now that you had become all too acquainted with his mannerisms. He was shifty, but all too predictable just the same.

His voice sounded outside the door, telling the guard outside to take leave. The air shifted as the door swung open behind you, his ominousness bearing down on you even now just by occupying the space.

Closing the door behind him, Castiel – your captor – moved into the room further towards you where you were sitting on the ground in between the bed and your dresser. He stopped at the end of the bed, turning his head to the right, spotting you. His lips curled into the familiar cruel smirk.

“Hmm,” he hummed, facing you fully. “That cannot be as comfortable as lounging on the bed.”

You said nothing, gripping your book protectively.

“Come now,” he snapped his fingers, pivoting on his heel. “I don’t have all day.”

Quickly, you pushed your book beneath the bed, hiding it from view. He of course knew you had it but without it in sight, you believed it better protected from any ‘lesson’ he wanted to impose upon you for any imagined slight.

Standing next to the bed, stealing quick glances at him as he shrugged his jacket off, pulled his gloves off with care, preparing for this latest assault. You had learned awhile ago that fighting him was not an option; it only left you with bruises and him bringing back ‘trophies’ of your friends in retribution for your disobedience. An ear there, a finger, even once an eye of who he claimed belonged to Erik. The deep brown color of the eye matched the friendly eyes Erik possessed and Castiel was cruel enough to do such a thing. Sacrificing your wellbeing to prevent further torture of your friends at your expense was the only way you saw yourself helping anyone anymore. So, you let him do what he liked most: breaking you. Over and over.

Only in a new way than he had started with.

Castiel came toe to toe with you, his bare fingers hooking underneath your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. He was shirtless, his belt undone already.

His lip twitched, staring deep into your eyes. Lightly, feigning politeness, he commented, “It’s been almost a week. Did you miss me at all?”

“No,” you told him firmly. It did no good to lie; he knew the truth. And there were few things that infuriated him more than lying.

Chuckling amused, his fingers slid quickly to grip your jaw tightly, causing you to wince. “My, my, no love lost between us, is there, my sweet?”

You said nothing as he moved his free hand to ghost along your frame, his hand coming to your hip. His hand moved further to cup your ass and you gasped softly as he yanked you to his eagerly awaiting kiss. His kisses held no tenderness behind them, only lust. You were surprised he could feel anything at all. Your dress was pulled away from you, leaving you nude. He laid a few more rough kisses, nipping at your nose as he pulled away.

“Mhm, I daresay I did miss you. The taste of you, the feel of you…” Castiel murmured as he tore his belt off, tossing it aside, his fingers then finding the zipper on his slacks. Bare as you, he was on you again, scooping you up into his arms before tossing you unceremoniously onto your back on the bed. “Your acquiescence is a treasure.”

The bed creaked with his weight as he pressed down onto you, his lips crashing into yours again. His cock brushed your thighs, hardening as he took your bottom lip into his, biting down roughly. You whimpered in pain, much to his pleasure. Pulling away, his eyes were dark.

“So delicate,” he snickered. “I must remember to treat my sweet with care.”

His fingers slipped past your folds, his thumb finding your clit with ease. You feared sometimes now that he knew your body better than you did; he had certainly touched every crevice and crook, physically and mentally.

Castiel was careful then, gentle even. That is what made it all the more worse when you responded to his touch, arching your back as you grew wetter beneath him. He was watching you, a lascivious look painted on his features. He pinched at your nub and you keened; he responded with twitch and a smirk as he basked in controlling your actions.

Angels were supposed to be good, that was what you had always been taught. But it had been all wrong; angels were cruel, domineering. And Castiel was one of the worst. Unfortunately for you, he had not decided to kill you after torturing you for information. He had kept you for himself, finding pleasure in torturing you other ways. Every orgasm was another notch in his bedpost and a kick to your gut whenever you came down from the high.

When you came on his fingers, he pressed his lips to yours, suffocating you with a bruising kiss.

“Well done, my sweet,” he cooed, peppering kisses before pulling away and lining himself up with your entrance.

“Pl—” you tried to beg before crying out as he buried himself in you to the hilt without any build up.

He groaned loudly, fully seated inside you. Adjusting himself, he pressed your legs up, your knees at his sides. Tears stung your eyes, your walls still sensitive as he slowly pulled out, his eyes boring into you as he did so. It got him going to draw any type of emotion out of you, positive or negative.

He slowly built up pressure and speed, hands planted on either side of you. Following his rhythm, you tried to fall away and into the feeling. Another lesson you learned quickly was that he had all the stamina in the world, you could not outlast him. When you had tried to avoid cumming on his cock, he had left you sore for days; it had hurt to sit properly. You had lost count of the times you had trembled beneath him, lost in your pleasure and subsequent over washing shame.

The room was filled with skin slapping against skin, his grunts of effort echoing in your ears. You panted, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach every time his cock brushed your core. Castiel knew, he always knew. His gaze raked over you, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, a wicked smirk on his face.

A choked sob left your throat and your fingers curled into the blankets, knuckles white, as your legs began to shake.

You heard him praise over the roar in your ears, “There you are, my little fledgling.”

Castiel pounded into you, relishing in your climax around him. The pain from his death grip on your hips was barely registered by you as you went limp, shuddering from the continuous waves. He finished inside you with a long, loud groan.

It did not take him long to leave you cold, the air chilling the sweat on your skin.

Slipping back into his clothes, Castiel turned away from you, humming jauntily under his breath.

Adjusting, you pushed yourself off the mattress, moving off of the bed. You wrapped your arms around yourself, waiting for him to turn around again.

When he did, he beamed, “You are so well behaved.” His heels clicked on the hardwood as he approached, closing the space between you. Resting his hands on your shoulders, he peered down his nose at you. “I suppose you have earned that shower.” He gave you a long, soft kiss on your forehead. Against your skin, he breathed, “Wash up. Relax. I do hate leaving but you know I will be back soon, my little fledgling.”

The dark chuckle confirmed what you already knew.

He knew he never truly left you alone. He was always in your head, toying with you even after the door closed behind him. That was his design.


End file.
